My Dreams Were Bloody Exhausting...

I have really intense, vivid dreams. I often don't know that I'm dreaming and get so sucked into the reality of my dreams that I'm very, VERY active while I sleep. Last night was more of the same.

The Running.
The Screaming.
The Fighting.

In dream #1, I was in the zombie apocalypse. I remember snatches of terrible things happening. People being tackled by the zombies and torn apart. I managed to save myself, a dog and a little boy. Eventually, though, the zombies got the little boy. At one point, I'd found a small boat and was making my way through a flooded town. The zombies were so slow and bogged down in the water that they really weren't much of a threat to me. If they got close to my little boat at all, the dog would bark at them and I would beat their brains in with an oar. Doing that over and over, though, got to be pretty exhausting.

When I woke up from that dream it was 4:30 in the morning and I was so relieved that it was just a dream that I smiled as I went back to sleep. I thought, "Thank God, I don't have to go back to the zombie world. Thank God it was just a dream."

In Dream #2, I was having lunch with friends on the top of some skyscraper, when the power suddenly went out and we knew that there was a fire consuming an entire floor, about 6 floors below us. Cue my fucking panic, again.

I tried to make my way down the stairs, but the smoke was thick and impossible to breathe. A pregnant woman passed out in the stairwell and I carried her as long as I could. Eventually, I turned back and made my way to the roof of the building, hoping to flag down an escape helicopter.

I woke up, terrified, around 6:45am and rather than risk another nightmare, I just got up and started the day. Sure, I'm tired today, but that's better than spending your resting hours, defending your asshole in prison or battling demons in Hell or whatever nightmarish scenario my brain dreams up next.

I do think it's interesting that in all of these horrible dreams, I never give up. Despite overwhelming odds and constant attack, I just keep fighting and fighting and fighting for survival. I've had similar dreams since I was boy and I always fought until I woke up or on rare occasions, beat back the bad guys. Maybe some of this tenacity in my sleep translates over to be my stubborness in my waking hours. Could one state of existence inform so thoroughly on another one?

Something to think about.

Cheers,
Mr.B